


Hearthfire

by cassini-huygens (nervous_peach)



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Drabble, Flow of Thought, M/M, POV Patroclus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 03:11:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20828441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nervous_peach/pseuds/cassini-huygens
Summary: His hair is like fire. As my fingers run through it, I can't help but picture it glow like the dying embers of the campfire outside.From the warmth of the hearthfire, to the warmth that is him, I am content with the way of things. Achilles, philtatos, you are my sun. You are my sun.





	Hearthfire

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely unedited. I just can't sleep until I write this out, so, enjoy.

<strike></strike>**To love you **is the greatest honor, and I bear it with pride. I can't help but lament your magnificance while we lie under the open night sky.

Your fingers brush against my arm and it's almost too much. How do I take your touch? How do I hold your love? 

From your green eyes, I can imagine vines grow. They tie me to you, and to you, hold me close.

I've loved you today, tomorrow, and always. As the fire crackles in the background, I let out a sigh. I'm so fortunate to have you. I hope it shows.

"Do you know how my mother believes I'll reach godlihood?" he mumbles, finger drawing circles from my neck to my shoulders. 

I have to hold back a grimace at the mention of his mother. Even the memory of her sends shivers down my spine. Could he read my mind? I could have sworn he twitched a slight, sly smile. 

"Of course," I answer, and how could I forget? No mortal could be privileged enough to study under Chiron. I am the exception only in that I'm his companion. 

_Companion; _the title sparks such a joy in me.

"Do you think they'll be able to have me be among the stars?" 

"How could they not? You're already radiant enough." This makes him smile. Better yet, he leans in and presses his lips to mine, and there it is, that bubbling warmth, as if each kiss is for the first time.

When he pulls away, he doesn't go far. His body is close to mine, so much so that I feel the flutter of his eyelashes against my forehead whenever he blinks, that I feel the flow of his steady breath. 

"I'd want you to be with me."

"With you?"

"In the stars, I mean."

What follows is a moment of respite. Of breathing him in, of breathing the dying campfire in. I can hear its last sparks popping against the remains of charred, wooden fuel. I think of how the stars flicker in the dark, surrounded by the endless night that now swallows at the embers. 

My voice is softer now, "It wouldn't do." 

"No?"

"No. I could never shine as bright as you. I'd fear making you dim."

"Are those my mother's words or your own?" And now his smile is sad. I hadn't meant it, not to say it out loud at least. I know he hates how I belittle myself, and yet-

"My own," and it's a truth, "but I'm sure she'd agree." 

"Do you know something?" Before I can answer, he kisses me gently, ever so gently, again, and I think I might melt. "It wouldn't mean a thing to me, not without you."

"Only you could make so little of divinity," and I want to be annoyed with him, but I cannot. He is foolish, but he is my bellved. My fool, maybe? 

"I mean it. Here," and he grabs my hand, placing it to his chest where his tunic gives away slightly. "Tell me how that feels. Is this the flesh of a god, or a human?"

My fingers twitch slightly, grazing against his softness, "It is you." 

"Answer me."

"You do not compare to either, you are more."

"No, Patroclus." His hand joins mine now, us joined over his hesrt. "I am human. You must remember. I am the best of the Greeks, but only human. I am not untouchable, omnipotent, nor omnipresent. Merely human. Mostly yours." 

Like so many times before, he's stolen the words from me. I am overwhelmed and silent.

A kiss to my forehead, my nose, my cheek, my lips, and there, and there، and there, and how can I be so audacious to receive this anoitment? 

He cups my face and looks me in the eye. "You complete me," he states, and there is no arguing. 

The cicadas hum a melody of sleepy slumber. The ashes' smoke carries to the heavens. Here below, within this house, within his hands, I am wanted. I am home. 

"Tell me. What do you do? Say it so I am sure you have heard me."

"I complete you," and I am hushed in quiet reverie.

"And that is why I love you."


End file.
